


The Darkness of Lovers

by Under_the_water



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: (it’s not), F/M, First work - Freeform, Magic, Mates, Nightmare, Self-Harm, Suggestive Themes, a little suggestive though, but is it?, but not yet, i don’t know how to tag, i love my children, i love these two, mate realization, not smut sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-04-07 23:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Under_the_water/pseuds/Under_the_water
Summary: Feyre can’t sleep due to a relentless spasm of her muscles. When she realizes it’s coming from Rhys, she rushes to rescue him from the nightmare. Turns out, the nightmare isn’t as it originally seemed.Or, Rhys is dreaming about Feyre before they mate and she finds out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is welcome. I don’t love how this turned out but hey, someone else might like it. Leave Fic requests in the comments and I’ll do my best to write them. Enjoy!!

The pages of the book were smooth beneath my hands. It was late and I was tired, but I was still somehow drawn to the stories lying on my desk. Putting the book down, I got ready for bed and slipped between the cool sheets.

I tossed and turned, unable to sleep due to a building tension throughout my whole body. I didn’t know why, but the bed no longer felt welcoming. I clenched and unclenched my muscles for the third time in a matter of seconds. Was this something that fae had to deal with? I hadn’t experienced anything like this at the Spring court, but I hadn’t been high fae for very long, either. 

Child’s pose had always helped with my cramps as a human, but I was utterly stumped concerning what to do in my current predicament. When I tried, that thing in my body attacked my muscles once more, and I cried out. The pressure was going to—

I gasped as my entire body seized up against my will. Something was very, very wrong. What was happening to me? It felt as though my own body was attempting to spontaneously combust. My breathing was inconsistent and erratic, my abdomen spasmed to an uncanny rhythm. 

The tension in my body centered around that spot in my chest. The bargain, I realized. If this was what I was feeling through the bond, his body must be practically tearing him apart.

I leapt from the bed. Amarantha. What she must be doing to him in his mind’s eye if he was unable to contain the feeling with his shields. I scrambled with the doorknob, twisting until it popped open and I rushed out into the hallway.

His room wasn’t far from mine. Darkness was seeping out into the hallway in long, luxurious tendrils, coiling as though they, too, were fighting off that unbearable tension. They pulled at my ankles, caressing my calves—I coughed, choking back the feelings those strokes were bringing to my overstimulated muscles.

I reached his door. Locked. Damnit. Maybe I could reach him through the bond...

Rhys...can you here me? It’s me—It’s Feyre. This is just a dream—let me in. Oh gods, please wake up. 

I waited, searched my mind—his mind—for any sort of response. 

Nothing.

Another wave of stimulation rolled over me. Doubling over with the overwhelming-ness of this feeling I couldn’t quite place, I reached for the handle and yanked. 

It was so easy; so easy to rip off that doorknob with my considerable fae strength. Training with Cassian hadn’t hurt either. 

I pushed open the door, no resistance with the lock out of the way, and was met with a beautiful, terrifying sight. 

His darkness was everywhere. Weaving in and out of the bed frame, swirling around the legs of his mahogany desk, even around my body. Beckoning to me, trying to pull me to the place where the darkness congealed and seemed to breathe. 

I whispered his name. There was no response. I gave into the darkness, letting it guide me to him. 

The bed was huge. I had no better way of finding him than crawling around on the mattress. The sheets were tangled around him, covered in sweat. I reached out—

He groaned. I stopped moving, that thing under my skin once again attempting to burst out. I couldn’t breathe. It was so strong this time, that wave of unknown. I reached out once more, and met with the smooth skin of his face, contorted and twisted into what I could only assume was a look of pain. 

The second I touched him, the feeling came back ten times worse than it had previously. He let out a strangled noise.

And then it hit me: I was only making it worse. Me being here, the frustration and restlessness had worsened as I got closer. I wasn’t helping, I was hurting. 

I slowly got up and backed away. There was nothing I could do that wouldn’t harm him further. Turning my back, I headed toward the door.

“Feyre,” he hissed, like a wounded animal. I turned around, desperate to make sure he was okay because this thing in my heart tightened at the thought of him in pain. 

He was still asleep, though. With his head thrown back and wings splayed across the bed he looked like a fallen prince. 

The painting flashed through my mind, and lingered, slowly fading away into that hole in my heart. 

I turned to leave again and he moaned. The darkness thrashed, my muscles seized, and I felt something awaken in my core that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Feyre, please.” 

I slowly walked back to the edge of the bed. Something wasn’t right, something was different from the last time I had saved him from his nightmares. The darkness was of a different kind.

“The darkness of lovers.” He had told me that once; that there were different brands of darkness for different situations, but... it was worth the try.

I crawled up onto the bed. “Rhys,” I tried. I touched his bicep, and that wave of feeling crashed through the bond once more. “Rhys,” I said again. He let out a low purr, and, damn me to hell, but my blood heated a bit. 

His face was covered in sweat, and I tried not to let my mind think about how that sweat would gleam on the rest of his body. How it might cling to the hard muscles of his abdomen, and drip further down to his...

No. Not now. Not yet.

He leaned his cheek into my hand, nuzzling my palm and letting out a quiet hum. He was beautiful. Laying on his bed, wings curled around his rapidly breathing form.

I closed my eyes. “Rhys, wake up.” Rhys, please. You need to wake up. 

When I opened my eyes again, it was to his violet ones. They shone with tears, and my heart broke for him in that moment.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let it get out of control—it was inappropriate. You just left Tamlin and I... I don’t think I can do this anymore—sleep this close to you. I’ll move to the house of wind tomorrow night and... and... it won’t happen again.”

I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do with my body. 

So I wrapped my arms around him, and dragged him up into a seated position. His wings and arms encircled me and pulled my back flush with his chest. I breathed in, and choked on the scent of him, trying to drag more of it into my lungs. 

I could smell his arousal. So strong I thought I might drown in it. I wouldn’t mind staying in his arms forever...

The bond went taught. I cried out. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see. 

Scrambling out of his arms, I dragged myself to the corner of his room. I could feel him, even this far away. My body cried out to be held, to be touched. I wanted him—I needed him. “What’s happening to me?” I thought I might be breaking.

He stood up and made to come toward me. 

“Don’t. I can’t.” If he came closer I would combust.

The pain on his face was ripping me apart.

“Feyre, there is a story I need to tell you first.”

“Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two is finally here!! I know it took me a while, I’ve been having some writers block lately so any prompts or requests are much appreciated!

_Mates_. The word clanged through me. 

Everything was moving, I thought I might die. I was shaking so hard I fell over. I couldn’t breathe, because he was here, and I could smell him— _feel_ him. He was so close and I wanted him. I wanted him on me; sucking on my skin, filling me to the point of splitting. I wanted to taste him, I wanted him to taste me.

_He was mine._

My hands found my knees and pulled them toward me. Rocking back and forth, I tried to take shallow breaths, but it didn’t make a difference, I was breathing him in.

And my breaths were getting longer and deeper, and I realized I was savoring the citrus-and-sea scent. I knew I probably looked like a mess: huddled on the floor, sobbing and rocking back and forth.

“Feyre?” His low timber made my stomach lurch. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t—I couldn’t, couldn't, _couldn’t_...

And then he was kneeling beside me, reaching for me, and I broke.

I clawed at the clothes he had put on. I wanted them gone—I needed to feel his skin. My lips were on his neck, and I was licking up up up along his jaw. My hands scrabbled at the soft linen of his sleep shirt.

He moaned. I flicked my tounge against his earlobe. He moaned again. “Feyre, not like this,” he gasped. I kept going. “ _Feyre, stop_.”

I froze at the pure, predatory command in his voice. He gave me a long look, and I could see the tears painting his cheeks.

The next thing I knew I was alone, clutching at something that was no longer there.

The prick had winnowed away, and I was left a pathetic, blubbering mess on the floor. I took a few breaths, expecting clean, Rhys-free air, but this was his room, and I was assaulted by the smell of his arousal wafting over from the bed. I groaned, cursing him and his pathetic excuses for not telling me. Before I even knew what I was doing I was at the foot of his bed. The sheets were a tangled mass of dark fabric, still soaked in his sweat. It should have been gross, but all I could think of was him as I wrapped myself up and buried my nose in one of his many pillows.

My tears were hot against my cheeks as I sobbed and sobbed at the unfairness of it all. Of the cauldron-damned unluckiness that Rhys— _Rhys_ —was my mate.

I was heaving, it was all too much—too much to handle, too much to process and I just kept crying.

A soft knock at the door was the only warning I had before he was back. I cried out; not again, I couldn’t do this again. Only he wasn’t alone—Mor was with him. He bent down to whisper something in her ear. She nodded, a determined look flashing in her honey eyes.

“Mor is going to take you away for a while.” His words didn’t register immediately, I was too focused on the pained expression contorting his face, and the fact that it seemed that he, too, had never stopped crying.

“What?” I sat up. “ _No_.”

“Feyre, you need space to think.”

“Rhysand, if you think for _one moment_ I am leaving right now—” I choked on a sob.

He gave me a searching look. “You won’t leave, will you,” he breathed.

I shook my head. No, I would not leave, and if he thought he could make me, then he could stick his—

Rhys turned to Mor. “Take care of her for me, cousin.’’

And then he was gone.

And I think I was screaming. My fingernails ripped down my face and the sharp, tangy smell of blood flooded my nose. Mor let out a cry of alarm and rushed toward me. I dropped my hands to my sides, blood dribbling down my neck and staining my nightgown. It felt good to feel something truly physical.

Mor took my hand and led me to my bathroom, where she undressed me, sat me down in the tub, and started the faucet. I stared blankly at the water splashing over my feet. I did nothing to help as she started to gently lather soap into my scalp, then the rest of my body. I watched as the water went from clear to a murky pink. I listened without hearing to the sounds of splashing water. My throat burned. My face stung.

Mor didn’t say anything, neither did I. I let her tuck me into bed. I felt numb and lifeless. Mor’s golden hair shone as she stretched out next to me. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” Her voice was soft and gentle.

I stared at the ceiling for a long, long time. It never changed—not that I had expected it to.

My eyes closed, and I took a deep breath.

I did not dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
